


maybe we can start again

by cosim18



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 08:24:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12295221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosim18/pseuds/cosim18
Summary: Stiles comforts Allison after her mom dies





	maybe we can start again

**Author's Note:**

> For the wonderful Ellie

The night at the hospital was pure agony. Losing Kate, she could handle. Finding out about the supernatural world and her boyfriend being a werewolf, she could handle. But her mother, one of only two constants in her ever-changing life? She didn’t know if she could handle this.

Allison spent the night curled up in a chair outside the morgue as her father talked to the Sheriff. She hadn’t been there when it happened, so she didn’t have anything to say. Her father told her that the cover would be suicide, a mother overtaken with stress and grief. He tried to emphasize that she had been one of the strongest people he knew, but that the police and the public couldn’t know the truth. She was fine with it, lying had become second nature to her anyway.

The next morning, Argent drove Allison home, and they ate breakfast in silence. Words felt out of place in the emptier house. Gerard offered to talk to Allison, but Chris insisted that she needed time alone, and he disappeared again, supposedly leaving the close family to grieve.

Unable to sleep, Allison finds herself sitting on her bed, picking at the blanket draped over her lap. She looks at the thread, untangling it from the fringe on the border, and numbly looks up, listening to the commotion downstairs. With the way the house was built, she can hear loud voices anywhere within the walls, sound echoing against the vaulted ceilings. She can’t tell who is there, but they seem intent on not leaving. Frustrated with the lack of silence to brood in, Allison pulls herself up off the bed and makes her way to her closed bedroom door. She looks up and sighs, collecting the few tears she has before they can spill out.

As the door swings out, Allison steps over the threshold of her room, leaving the safe space she’d built for herself. She hasn’t uttered a word since the hospital, since she finally came to believe her father insisting that this wasn’t a training exercise. She continues along the hall until she reaches the banister and leans against it, squinting down at the person standing on the porch. His hand is up against the door, preventing her father from closing it.

“Stiles?” She calls out, her voice raw from crying and disuse.

“Allison, hey! I was trying to come talk to you but your dad here,” Stiles starts, thumping his hand against Argent’s chest to illustrate his point, “wouldn’t let me in.” He stands there, frozen, and the earnestness in his eyes give Allison some hope.

“Fine, dad, let him in,” Allison says, turning back to walk toward her room, expecting Stiles to follow. He does, after staring at Argent for a few seconds longer than necessary.

When Stiles finally stops at Allison’s bedside, she’s back in the same position as before, sitting cross legged with the blanket.

“It was hers, wasn’t it?” Stiles asks without further prelude.

“Did Scott send you?” Allison doesn’t want to look up, doesn’t want to see the pity on his face. She certainly doesn’t want to talk to Scott, and she needs to find out if that’s the only reason for his best friend showing up.

“I came to check on you, no favor for Scott or anything, he doesn't even know I'm here. He's busy with... well something else. My dad told me about what happened, and I wanted to come talk to you, friend to friend.”

“Are we? Friends?” Allison’s tone is harsher than she intends, but she’s not in the mood to correct herself, to take it back. Her gaze is still leveled at the fabric in front of her.

“Well even if we’re not, I’m here for you. I know what it’s like to lose a mother, especially when you might not have been very close with her recently.”

Allison’s head jerks up and she finds Stiles’ eyes, unashamed and ringed with red. She curses at herself for never asking about Stiles’s family or why she had only met his dad.

“What happened?” She asks, glad to have the distraction from her own predicament.

“She had frontotemporal dementia. The closer to the end she got, the worse it was. By the time she died, I had already lost who my mother actually was.” Stiles drops his gaze, taking a seat on the bed opposite Allison, mirroring her position. “And before you say anything, it’s not like I advertise it, so there’s logically no way you could’ve or should’ve known.”

Silence takes over, and they sit in awkward comeraderie, two souls dealing with the same loss. Neither is sure what to say, or if anything needs to be said, but when Stiles notices Allison’s hands shaking slightly, he places his over them, stilling the motion. She takes a second before looking up at him.

“How do you deal with it?” She whispers, so quietly that Stiles almost doesn’t hear her.

“You just keep moving forward,” he says. “Some days are better than others, but you just have to keep fighting, even if all that entails is waking up. And don’t hold it in, Allison. It might feel safe or comfortable to not show the world you’re feeling something, but take it from someone who’s been there. Let it all the fuck out. Scream, cry, smash something, just don’t let it consume you. And don’t let it change the love you have for other people. Things are never as clear-cut as we might think.”

“What do you mean by that?” Allison asks, holding Stiles’s eyes.

“There are always two sides to the same story, it’s basic scapegoating.”

“Stiles, I swear if you don’t tell me what you’re talking about I’m going to hurt you.” She doesn’t actually mean it, but she clenches her fists for show.

“Okay, fine,” Stiles says, throwing his hands up. “Your dad,  _ Gerard _ , they don’t know why your mom was actually at the club. But from what Scott told me, she was trying to kill him. If Derek hadn’t figured out something was wrong and made me break the mountain ash barrier, she would’ve succeeded. Derek didn’t just bite her out of spite or to make a point. He was saving Scott.”

The silence arrives again, pressing in against them, making the room feel smaller than it is. Allison reaches her hands forward to grab onto Stiles’s again, and they hold onto one another like they’re each other’s lifeline. Allison isn't sure what to think with this new information, and she's too tired to want to. After a few minutes, she shifts, and Stiles leans back, ready to leave when she asks him to.

Surprising them both, Allison keeps her grip on Stiles’s hand firm, pulling him forward as she falls back onto the pillows. He’s over her, supporting his weight, and she gives him a weak smile, nodding. He returns it and presses a kiss to her forehead before moving behind her, pulling her in close. As they spoon, Allison pulls one of his arms over her waist and intertwines her fingers with his and scoots back to a more comfortable position.

When they wake in the morning, completely separated due to each of their tossing and turning throughout the night, they feel a bit better. There’s still an empty void in Allison where her love for her mother belonged, as well as the anger toward Derek. But with Stiles by her side, she feels calmer, and she knows she’ll make it out of this.

There’s an envelope on Allison’s dresser, simply adorned with her name in her mother’s handwriting, but she doesn’t pick it up yet. She knows she will, she’s certain it’ll give her closure, but she needs to begin healing before she’s ready. Stiles joins her at the dresser and stands there, unsure of what to do. Allison reaches for his hand, holding it tight, and brings it to her lips, pressing a kiss to the skin.

“Thank you,” she whispers, and gives him a genuine, albeit sad, smile.

“You never need to thank me,” Stiles says, pulling her in for a hug.

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted this to be longer, but being sick has severely debilitated my writing abilities lol. I do plan to extend this further, as I have a lot of feelings and ideas about Stallison!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @hufflepuffkira


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